


Rethsaam

by Lusey



Series: Alyona Trevelyan [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Holy shit there are a lot of characters in this game, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, also baby dragons, bull riding is bound to happen so hold onto ur butts, hope you like redheads, inquisibull
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-05-07 22:00:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5472191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lusey/pseuds/Lusey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alyona Trevelyan hasn't felt safe in a long time, she hasn't trusted anybody or made attempts at friendships. But then the Inquisition happens, her mark appears, and she finds that maybe her cohorts aren't so bad after all.</p><p>Especially the Qunari, the one who admitted to being a spy.</p><p>If only she knew what would happen from that single introduction.</p><p>(Takes place over the entirety of the game + Trespasser, other DLC mentioned)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to my friend Kimmy, who did proofreading for this chapter and the next few too!

There was little light, save weak torches and daylight filtering through from above. It was quiet, stuffy, stifling. Guards in the shadows were watching, waiting, and muffled sounds of footsteps were distant, and foggy like a dream.

A mage, Alyona, woke to a jail cell, and that was what she found.

Her head was groggy, her body in pain, and she breathed out fog as she realized how chilled she was. Her head ached, and she reached to run fingers through her fiery hair, tugging on binding ropes that jolted her awake in less than a blink. Her head snapped up, and her eyes darted about the place in a panic. Where was she? She was at the Conclave, wasn’t she? Surrounded by mages, dignitaries, chantry sisters, templars. Something was wrong here, and her body tensed as the door slowly opened.

 

Two women walked in. Questioned her, accused her. And Alyona only accused and questioned back.

“What happened at the Conclave?” one asked.

She didn’t like the woman’s tone, but still she thought long and hard, and with a worrisome expression she realized something.

“I... I don’t remember anything.”

“If you can’t remember, then explain  _this."_

The dark haired one grabbed Alyona’s left arm and revealed a green mark. Alyona reeled back in horror, finally feeling its magic clashing with her own in her palm.

“Maker’s breath! What is that?!”

It went on for another five minutes, both parties getting more and more aggressive until the third stepped in. They settled, though tense, and the dampness of the cell only worsened things. Alyona remained tense, tempted to burn her shackles then and make a run for it. But still, they made no attempt to harm her, so she would play along... for now.  
Haven awaited her in the blinding light of day, along with a hundred accusing eyes and a tear in the sky. It rumbled and spat, as if hell itself had opened its jaws in an endless yawn. Alyona stared, the dark haired woman freed her of her binds, and told her what it was.

A rip in the veil, opening a gateway into the Fade itself.

They moved further, and she felt the rip’s pulse in her hand, and with one discharge she was in agony on the ground. Her ears were ringing, even as she was helped up, and again her head pounded. This mark was killing her, she heard and understood that much. They talked more, and Alyona learned that she was the only survivor, to her hidden grief and dismay.  
When they were stopped by a man in church clothes, she had half a mind to burn his face for his accusations. Trial? Her fault? He jabbed at her and claimed this was her doing, and she grabbed him by the collar and held him close.

“I had  _family_ at that Conclave. But I suppose the mighty Chantry would rather run their mouths than actually help.”

His collar started to smoke, and she let go with a snarl on her lips. She argued again with her captors, and then she continued on her way, growing frustrated, angry, and ready to burn the hole in the sky into oblivion.

The demons made the situation all the more harrowing.

They fell from the sky in quick succession, destroying a bridge and sending supplies and men flying. Two nasty shades ambushed the women, lunging and hissing and baring their claws. And yet, the shieldmaiden took arms and fought, trying to protect her ward.  
Alyona spotted a dusty staff out of the corner of her eye, and dove for it, joining the fray. She blasted the face of a demon, and got in close to finish it off while it dealt with the frost in its eyes.

“ _Ice_ ,” she spat, “I hate Ice staffs.”

The fight was over in mere moments, and then the woman’s sword turned to her instead.  
  


“Mage! Drop your weapon.” The woman ordered.

Alyona stood tall and squared her shoulders.

“You know as well as I that I don’t need a staff.”

“Was that a threat?”

“Only if you force it to be.”

They stared down each other for ages, but the shieldmaiden broke first.

“Fine. You need a weapon, I cannot protect you.”

Alyona strode by her with nary a second glance.

“Of course you can’t. Nobody can. Just me.”

They moved on, trudging through snow and dirt and growing ever closer to the remains of the Temple. There was little to say, Alyona wasn’t interested in speaking, only in finding the end to this nightmare.

“What is your name?”

 

Alyona paused for a moment, considering the question. A name was easy to forget, hard to abuse... She could share it.

“Only if you give me yours.”

“I am Cassandra Pentaghast.”

They stopped before another clearing, scanning the valley as demons fell yet again. Alyona turned and locked onto Cassandra with a golden stare.

“Alyona... my name is Alyona Trevelyan.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google: How to write a chapter that summarizes the opening part of Inquisition without it dragging on for too long.  
> That being said, thank you to anybody who's taken the time to read this! I'm intending fully on moving on with this, and getting into the thick of my favorite characters and their *ahem* involvement with each other.
> 
> ~L


	2. Flame and Rain

Even at night, the tear in the sky lit up the snowy mountains. It pulsed, glooming and green and reminding those of the newly formed Inquisition of their goals.  
Those of the Chantry, however, didn't seem to get the picture.  
Scouring the Hinterlands was harrowing work, and every time Alyona returned to Haven, she hardly spoke a word. She was utterly frustrated: demons, Solas’ prattle, petty fights with Vivienne, and her forced hand in stopping both rogue templars and mages. This was not what she envisioned her life to be, but it simply was, and there was no fighting that.

 

Back at Haven at last with her party in tow, Alyona was much more interested in retiring until mealtime than dealing with more people who still half believed this was her doing. Still, she couldn’t make it past the big campfire without drawing attention. Varric waved to her in his usual manner, and she knew that he wanted to talk. She sighed, and approached.

“Have something to say, Varric?”

“Just checking in, Al, you know me. How’s the hand?”

“Not killing me, but sore from beating templars upside the head all week.”

“Yeesh, you _really_ have it out for them, don’t you?”

She sighed, rubbing her temples.  
“I’m a mage, Varric, is it all that surprising that a prisoner would hate the keeper of the keys?”

“No, but I mean you really hate them. You always give Cullen this look when he tries to speak to you, don’t think I haven’t seen it. Between that and your scarily impressive resistance to this frozen hellhole, I’m convinced you have it out for everything.”

 

Alyona scowled at him. He was right, of course - she couldn’t be around Cullen without feeling the urge to push him away. It wasn’t necessarily his fault, he was mild and respectful enough in talking to her, but she despised Templars without exception, and he learned to keep a distance when not at meetings.  
Her indifference to the cold, however, was not as simple as the dwarf made it out to be. She shrugged at him.  
“My reasons for hating those of the Order are personal. The cold is... different.”

She left him there with more questions than answers, but she wasn’t the type to divulge personal things to people, especially those she barely knew. Hopefully, he’d know better than to pry when they talked again.

 

Her efforts to retreat to rest, however, were thwarted by a young man, who was obviously looking out for her. Despite her growing discontent, she knew better than to turn anybody away in the Inquisition’s infancy.

“Alright soldier, who are you and who sent you?”

He seemed surprised at the sudden arrival, but was quick to recompose and respond.

“Cremisius Aclassi, ma’am. I have a message from my company, the Bull’s Chargers.”

“Bull’s Chargers? So you’re mercenaries.”

“That’s right, we’re out on the Storm Coast right now looking into some Tevinter people spotted gathering there. My boss offers the information free of charge.”

“And who is your boss, Cremisius?”

“His name’s The Iron Bull. One of those qunari, big horned guys? Anyways, he’s our company commander. Leads at the front, pays well, and is a hell of a lot smarter than the last guy I worked for.”

“Alright, so he’s a Qunari that’s interested in the Inquisition, is that what I’m gathering?”

“More or less, the Chargers are an efficient company, and would do well for your Inquisition. If you don’t believe me, come to the Storm Coast to see us in action.”

He glanced back at the Breach, then back to Alyona.

“This is the first time I’ve seen the boss take a side - figures it took a hole in the sky to do it.”

 

Alyona paused and considered it. Cremisius was straight forward, no bullshit about his intentions, and a mercenary company would do well to bolster numbers for the Inquisition.  
“Alright, I’ll see things for myself. Maybe work something out if I’m impressed.”  
“I’m sure you will be, ma’am. Come to the Storm Coast when you’re ready. We’ll all be there.”

He left, and with the sun setting, Alyona retreated to her room to plan out the trip.

 

 

By afternoon the next day, she was on the road north, with some men and companions in tow. A long journey, but thankfully on horseback and on warming terrain. The snow wicked away as grass and smooth stones took its place, and by the next day, the Storm Coast was in sight. Apt to its name, it rained heavily, and the smell of salt and drenched stone was, well, an acquired taste at best. Alyona arrived at the camp as swiftly as she could, looking for cover. She held a cloth up above her head as Harding approached her, and she nodded in greeting.

“Good to see you, Harding. Got a report?”

“There’s been news of templar activity down the coast, and there have been signs of possible Grey Warden activity that would be worth investigating.”

“Thank you. Any chance of this rain lightening up?”

“I’m afraid not, it hasn’t stopped since camp was set up.”

Alyona grumbled and slouched a bit.

“Well, thanks anyways, Scout Harding.”

As quickly as the conversation was over, another scout ran up to the group.

“Got news! A fight’s been sighted just down the cliffs!”

“Must be those Chargers. I’ll go see if they’re as great as they claim to be.”

  
She geared up and moved out as quickly as she could manage. She came to the slope’s edge and looked down, witnessing the battle from afar. Swords, arrows, and magic flew, and the sound of clashing metal resounded through the rain. Alyona spotted Krem first, wielding a hammer as large as himself. An unlucky mage’s leg got crushed from a swing, and the action moved so she couldn’t see the rest. She scanned around, and finally spotted their commander.

How could anybody miss a Qunari of that size?

His horns stretched out wide, almost above his shoulders, and he wielded an axe with a blade the size of a young dwarf. He fought hard and fought well, thus had the most enemies around him. Alyona dared to slide down the slope, ready to join the fray.

 

 

Down in the midst of battle, the smell of blood was in the air, just as Iron Bull liked it. The splatters against the ground and the battle cries of his persistent enemies made something of a symphony in his ears. These guys just kept coming! They didn’t know when to give up! He lashed out his axe again, cleaving a man in half. Another took their place so quick, Bull would have sworn he’d missed that blow. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed somebody sliding from the cliffs, but didn’t care to pay attention. If they were a threat, Dalish will pick them off quickly. This way and that, turning to deflect and hit back, the fight was well waited for and most enjoyable. From behind him came the sound of somebody charging, and he turned quickly to cut them down.

Only for said assailant to be kicked square in the jaw and sent falling face first into the sand. In his place, a redheaded woman stood, using her staff’s blade to impale the back of their neck. A swift kill, though he could tell she would have been more than happy to beat him some more. She looked up at him, and golden eyes met green. She nodded to him, he nodded back; this was who he’d been waiting for.

“Behind you,” she said, and like that, they were both back into the thick of the battle.

Amidst the chaos, the two remained close, surrounded by Tevines of warrior and mage alike. They fought and perished from sweeping strikes and overwhelming blasts. Alyona charged at another mage, blasting out a particularly weak fireball. It knocked them to the ground and gave her time to kick their head, but not before she yelled in frustration.

“DAMN. THIS. **RAIN!** ”

She kicked him three, four more times, only stopping when blood seeped out from under his head. Another warrior leapt forward, slashing at her and causing her to leap back. She bumped backs with the Qunari, and without another moment to spare, leapt back without the use of magic. The last of these people would feel fists and blades, not magic weakened by the rain.

 

When the last enemy fell, all that remained were the victors, breathing heavily and standing still in the downpour. They all looked to each other, looking around for stragglers, and relaxed. A couple cheered, more than a few laughed, and others just wiped off and stowed their weapons like nothing was ever amiss.  
Alyona’s wiped the blood from her staff, and the Qunari approached after making sure all was well with his Chargers.

“So you’re with the Inquisition, right? Have a seat with me. Krem will get some drinks.”

Alyona followed, but said little, still scoping out the man in front of him.

Massive didn’t even begin to describe this guy. Wide shoulders, a chest you could play a game of wicked grace on, and his shoulders alone were as big as her head!  
She finally spoke up, if only for introductions.

“Alyona Trevelyan. Your man Krem said a lot of good things about you.”

“Good to meet you, good fighting out there. You don’t see a lot of mages fighting at close range.”

He sat down and relaxed, but she kept standing, unwilling to get comfortable just yet. Krem appeared again, greeting her almost cheerily.  
“Good to see you again. Throatcutters are done, chief.”

“Already? Make ‘em check again, don’t want any Vint bastards getting away. No offence, Krem.”

“None taken. Least a bastard knows their mother. Puts one up on you Qunari, right?”

They both chuckled, and Krem left, giving a nod to Alyona. She watched him for a moment, saw him talk to the others and how quickly they got to work.

 

“Your second in command?” She asked.

“That’s right,” Bull responded, “He might be a Vint, but he’s a damn good one.”

“He’s respectable, I’ll give him that. So, tell me about your men.”

Iron Bull took a drink of his ale.  
“Well, you’ve seen us fight, so you know that already. We’re expensive, but we’re worth it. I’m sure the Inquisition can afford us though.”

“How expensive are we talking?”

“That you don’t have to worry about. Your Ambassador -- Josephine? We’ll work with her to get payments set up. What I’m saying is we’re worth it.”

She looked around to his men again, she’d seen them fight. Efficient and deadly, even if they weren’t high in numbers.

“They’re a good bunch.”

“They are. But it’s not just the boys you’re getting, you’re also getting me.”

She raised an eyebrow, and he took another drink before continuing.

“You need a frontline bodyguard. I’m your man. Demons, dragons -  The bigger the better.”

He stood and strode past her, turning to face her with a quick turn.  
“Another thing. Might be useful, might piss you off... Seeing how you fight, it’ll more likely piss you off. Ever heard of Ben-Hassrath?”

Alyona nodded.  
“You’re not the first Qunari mercenary I’ve hired, Iron Bull. And they mentioned them once or twice. Judging by the way they talked about them, they sound like the sort of people that make problems go away.”

 

Worked with Qunari before? Definitely something to stow away for later. Bull loosened his shoulders a bit.  
“Yeah, that’s about it. Spies would be a bit closer to what they are... Or, uh, what we are.”

Alyona’s expression darkened, and Bull’s thoughts about the information pissing her off appeared to come true. He almost raised his hands with his excuse, but kept going anyways.

“That Breach has got the Ben-Hassrath concerned. Magic out of control like that could make a lot of problems everywhere. I’ve been given orders to join your Inquisition, get close to the people in charge, and send reports.”

Alyona’s expression continued to worsen, and her glare was enough to burn holes into him.  
“So you’re telling me outright that you’ve been sent to spy on us? Just flat out get close to people to find out their secrets?”  
  
“Woah hey, didn’t say anything about secrets. Just information about what’s going on. The Inquisition is at the front of things, so that’s where I need to be too. Besides, you’ll also get reports from the Ben-Hassrath. Plenty of things that could be useful to the Inquisition. Look, whatever happened at the Conclave thing, it’s bad, and that Breach needs to get closed. I’m not keen on demons pouring out all over the place. Whoever I work for, I’m on your side.”

 

There was a long silence as Alyona considered his offer. The reports back could prove useful to the Inquisition, and he’d been brutally honest about his intentions. A bodyguard wouldn’t hurt either, and qunari were efficient meat shields if anything.  
“Tell me a bit more about the reports we’d get first. What goes into them and how could I use them?”

“It’d mostly be suspicious activity, enemy movements, interesting gossip. Alone they’re not much, but if your spymaster’s worth a damn, she’ll put ‘em to good use.”

“ _She_?”

He chuckled, nothing went by this one, not a damn thing.  
“Did some research. Plus I’ve always had a thing for redheads.”

Alyona’s face fell flat, unamused by his extra comment. He certainly was straight forward, it takes a lot of guts to admit you have a thing for redheads to a redhead after all, especially when you’re working out a deal with them. 

She sighed and held out her hand.  
“You’re both the largest and most honest Qunari I’ve ever worked with, but we’ll have our eye on you. Your reports go through Leliana first, you don’t sent out anything she doesn’t approve. If you try to trick us or compromise us, Cassandra will eat you alive. And if she doesn’t,  _I will_.”  
He firmly shook her hand and smiled.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Good. I’ll see you back at Haven. I’m tired of this damned rain.”

He chuckled and waved as she walked off, going right into his usual banter with Krem as she left. His new boss was something, that was for sure. Few mages put effort into learning to physically fight, and fewer yet were willing to use it willingly. He could tell there’d be a lot to learn from this woman. She was somebody who didn’t like liars and didn’t like people who tried to find out about her. He shook his head and went back to his men to finish packing.

 

He almost felt bad, because she’d just hired the exact kind of person she hated the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point in the future I might change the rating to explicit... but for now... well...  
> *cough*
> 
> ANYWAYS
> 
> Thanks to everybody who left kudos on the prologue! it means a lot to me ;u;


	3. Remembering Old Scars

The Chantry had been publicly humiliated by their own attack dogs. Punched and berated and walked out on by the people sworn to protect and serve them. It was an embarrassment, and not taken lightly by those who witnessed the event.  
In the mind of Alyona, the Templars’ show of arrogance and force was no surprise, and she was more than happy to leave the scene. She was tempted to start a fight then and there, but Cassandra’s expression of worry kept her grounded. It was something to consider, at the very least, but the rebel mages’ plea for help rang sharper in her ears.

  


It seemed all at once that Alyona was in Haven again, back to the snow and chill air.  
She had hardly a chance to breathe before being summoned to the war table yet again. Strategies on this, what to do on that, and most importantly, who to go to to fix the gaping hole in the sunny afternoon sky.

“The mages appear to be desperate,” Josephine stated. “They've lost many to the war, conclave, and now the continued skirmishes by more extreme persons.”

“But there’s something wrong with the Templars,” Cassandra replied. “I know Lord Seeker Lucius, and I know that something is off.”

“While that is true, the mages’ knowledge would be well suited for dealing with the issue at hand.” Josephine said back.

“Josephine, the Templars’ ability to nullify magic is just as suited, I say we assist them.” Cullen stood firm, arms crossed.

“Mages are dangerous, we can't trust them.”

 

“Funny,” Alyona said, eyes looking up from the map. “I was about to say the same thing about Templars.”

 

The look she gave Cullen was full of cold, unforgiving hate, and he was at a loss for words. He looked down at his hands, then back up to her, even if cautiously.

“I’m sorry, I meant no disrespect towards you.”

“... Lelianna, sent a word to the scouts in the Hinterlands that we’ll be be in Redcliffe by the end of the week. I need to make preparations.”

“I will see to it at once.”

“Thank you, we’re done here.”

She was the first out the door, Cassandra trailing close behind.

 

“Alyona, you were rather harsh on Cullen in there. Must you have this personal vendetta against him whenever he speaks?”

“I have no issue with him personally,” Alyona said, picking up her pace, “I have issue with everything he stood for, and everything he still stands for, whether he’s with  _them_ or not.”

She stopped in front of Cassandra and pointed back to the church.  
“If he started going on about how your Seekers are not to be trusted, that they’re so dangerous that force is implied to be the only way of control - if he said things like that, wouldn’t you be offended? He speaks of me like I’m a barely tamed animal!”

“Alyona he did not mean-”

“No, he absolutely did. When he disrespects mages, he disrespects me, and he had better learn to hold his Maker forsaken tongue. The next time it is loosed without a leash, I might personally see to its burning!”

The snow near her feet melted away, and Cassandra subtly readied herself should  the mage lose control. Luckily, it didn’t come to that, and Alyona’s temper subsided to a lingering simmer. The women settled, and Alyona turned on her heel and left for the gates. She needed space, or at the very least something to relieve the frustration. Cassandra simply stood and watched her leave, stunned for the time being. How could one person hold so much anger and resentment?

 

Alyona approached the stable pen, eyeing her new steed. A red buck, head high and prouder than any creature she’d known. Perhaps it was a prideful beast, but it was swifter than the horses, and more impressive to look at. She leaned against the railing and let out an exasperated sigh.

“They way they talk about me, they might as well stick me in there with you.”

The deer snorted, head dipped to the floor to graze on hay. Alyona sighed, jumping the fence to get closer. She grabbed a brush hanging near the saddle and ran it along the beast’s neck. A ride would only work her up more, and this was more therapeutic. The deer stood a little more still, seeming to enjoy the grooming and attention.

“That’s a good boy.”

“Your Worship.”  
 

Alyona sighed bitterly, turning her head to look behind her. Krem stood at the fence, watching her brush the buck.

“I really wish you wouldn’t call me that, Lieutenant. What do you need?”

“Nothing, just making sure you’re not going to burst into flames.”  
  
“Krem-”

“The snow around your feet’s completely melted.”

She looked down and found he was telling the truth, the snow was fresh from the night, and barely enough to be called snow, but there was indeed a melted puddle around her. Perhaps she was not as calmed down as she’d hoped. She shook her head and tried to will her magic away. Still, she felt no change, and she quickly gave up, going back to brushing her steed.

“It happens. I’m fine.” She looked back for a moment, eyeing him. “No witty comments? No jokes?”

Krem laughed. “The Chief isn’t here to encourage it.”

“Where did that qunari go? The tavern again?”

“He mentioned wanting to get shit faced and maybe boast about some scars, I’ve heard ‘em a thousand times so I stayed back. Hell, I was there for some of them.”

That piqued her interest, though she tried not to show it. She glanced back for a moment before running the brush along the elk’s back.

“Which ones?”

“The one on his right arm near his wrist, there's one on his leg from when an assassin tried to cut his hamstrings. Didn't work out. Hmm... Let's see,” Krem pondered it for a moment, “the one on his chest that sort of looks like a crescent moon, the eye-”

“You were there when he lost that eye? How did that happen?”

“Why, thinking of matching? There's a flail in the armory about the same size as the one that did it, if you're interested.”

Alyona cast him a look _._ Krem shrugged and Al moved to the other side of her buck, continuing to rhythmically stroke and brush.

“He saved my arse when I tried escaping Tevinter. Bastard didn't even know me and he got right between me and the flail.”

“... Tell me more.”

 

Alyona said nothing, save small questions here and there, interested in the tale. Getting some scars and cuts trying to help a friend was one thing, but losing something as important as an eye for a stranger was another.

“Well. Bull seems to be an idiot, you could have been a criminal, or an assassin...”

She paused, considering what to say next

“But I would've done the same, I suppose. Your situation was hardly fair.”

“You know, that's similar to what he said when I yelled at him for being a git. He just laughed, helped me up, and bought me a drink, still bleeding out of the hole where his eye used to be.”

“And it never occurred to you that this qunari could just be using you for cover? Or some ulterior motive given to him by the Qun?”

“Honestly, I try not to think about it too much,” Krem stated, “Qunari spy or not, he's the best damn boss I've ever had.”

“Did I just hear “best damn boss” come out of your mouth, Krem?”

As if on cue, Bull strode up to the lieutenant’s side, not nearly as drunk as expected.

“I knew you liked me.”

“Sod off, chief,” Krem laughed. “What happened to getting shitfaced?”

“Sera had a look of mischief about her, so I got out of the way.”

Alyona sighed, stopping her grooming, much to her mount's displeasure.  
“I'll let Cassandra know.”

Bull raised his hand to stop her. “Easy now boss, you and her are riled up enough. Cool off first and let Sera have her fun.”

Alyona’s expression didn't change, and she focused back on brushing her stag.

“Ah, you heard that.”

“ _Everybody_ heard that, boss. You really tore into her.” His expression turned to a silly grin.

“I peeked outside to see what was going on and saw you storm off leaving melted puddles in your wake. Cassandra looked quite _aghast._ ”

Krem punched his arm, and Alyona looked ready to do the same, though not in good humor. She scoffed and returned to her task.  
“Perhaps not one of my more dignified moments as the so called ‘Herald’. But I did mean what I said.”

Bull laughed. “We need more spark like yours around here!”

“Spark?”

“Everybody’s so content with rolling over with their tails tucked in. It’s refreshing to see somebody unwilling to take shit when it’s handed to them.”

  
Bull saw her raise a brow, and she stopped brushing putting her tools away to lean against the fence. She sighed and crossed her arms, watching the beast graze. Bull watched her for a moment. Wide shoulders for a mage, androgynous face, an unwavering scowl to say she was not one to toy with was redundant, at best. Hell, it was pretty attractive, and that was without adding the perk of her being a redhead.  
Ah, but he knew better than to say any of that to her, he’d get a swift fist to the gut if he dared.  
He merely rolled his shoulders and leaned against the other side of the fence, close enough to be within her peripherals.

“So, what were you and Krem talking about?”

She glanced in his direction, and their eyes met, gold against green. She looked back to the steed and shrugged.

“You, actually.”

“Oh?”

“You’re a lot different than I expected. The only Qunari I know who’d lose an eye for somebody would be a paid one, and even then only on orders.”

“Ah, he told you that one did he? Probably could’ve taken them out without that happening, but he would’ve gotten hurt.”

“It was idiotic.”

“So I’ve been told,” he chuckled back.

“Technically he did still pay me back by joining my company though.”

 

They talked for a long time, though most was about him and the Qunari. He was surprised at her questions; most people asked about Par Vollen and the Qun in distaste, or out of a desire to convert. Alyona merely was curious, especially about why he behaved so differently from others she’d met. The others were all stoic and soldier-like. It was a deep contrast to his cheerful, talkative nature  
_ It’s because most Qunari outside of Par Vollen are or were soldiers _ , he’d said.  _ The talkative ones stay home with other jobs, or they turn out like me after a long time away.  
_ It was a half truth, but it sated her, as did most of his answers. He was blunt in most things, not a fan of sugar coating, and she absorbed it attentively with a thoughtful nod here and there.

Eventually, her questions became more vague and less relevant, so he tried to turn things on her. _  
_

“So you worked with other Qunari before? Tal-Vashoth mercs, probably.”  
  
“Well I assume so,” she started, “they were quiet and talked about how the Qun had abandoned them or something, at the time I was more interested in them keeping me and my company’s hides intact.”

Bull grunted in distaste, but let her continue.

“When my circle and I first got to Ferelden, we were hunted down by Templars left and right. The Qunari proved to be valuable guards until they left for other jobs. It was just two of them, they had this red stuff on their bodies and faces.”  
  
“Vitaar. Hardens our skin so we don’t need as much armor. It’s poisonous to everybody except us, too.”

He changed the subject rather quickly, she observed, though perhaps Tal-Vashoth just didn’t sit well with him. Whatever.

“That’s convenient. My brother thought it made them look rather charming, actually.”  
  
“Well your brother has good taste,” Bull chuckled, “the creative ones really know how to make themselves stand out with it.”

He eyed her for a moment. “So, a brother?”

Her look towards him was cold, for a moment. “Yes, a little brother.”

“Also a mage, I’m gathering.”

“... Yes.”

“... So?”

“So what.”

“Not even a name?”

She made a displeased noise, looking away. “It’s not important right now. Not with that Breach keeping me from looking for him.”

For a moment, she looked up, and something akin to worry crossed her features. Bull looked to the sky with her, watching the maw of the beast yawn. He heard a crackle and glanced to see her marked hand glowing, and her face contorting with displeasure.

“You okay boss?”

“I’m fine,” she half snapped, jumping the fence to head back to the sanctuary.   
“Be ready to head out in a few day’s time. We’re heading to Redcliffe to assist the mages.”

“Got it.”

 

  
She left him and Krem behind with the Breach looming overhead, glowing bright even as the sun disappeared. Alyona’s hand settled to a mildly stingy sensation as she neared her quarters, but despite the annoyance, she was surprisingly calm. Not angry, not overheating, she almost thought herself... relaxed? Perhaps it was weariness, she felt spent, drained of energy thanks to her outbursts.  
_My own fault of course_ , she chastised in her head, _my own magic only does what it’s told after all._

She changed quietly and sat down in her small bed, resting against the wall to think and digest. Bull was surprisingly patient with her, though she chalked that up to his training. Still, his willingness to share his culture and his willingness to stop prying when asked were... Different. He was blunt, she appreciated that... And brave too. She touched three fingers to her eyelid, contemplating his past actions with a thoughtful hum.

Just as she laid down for sleep, she heard Sera’s giggle faintly, and soon after, the sound of shouting, including that of Cassandra.  
  


She’d deal with it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How to condense all my obnoxious in-game conversations to a paragraph: a novel by yours truly


	4. The Tevinter Catastrophe pt.1

The Hinterlands always proved to be the largest part of the journey from Haven. The expansive array of mountains and grass fields could cause anyone to lose their way. Fortunately, the set path was clear, and the Hinterlands had roads. Unfortunately, the Herald’s travelling party was of a talkative and inquisitive nature.

 

Alyona trudged on atop her Hart, already sick of the company she’d picked for the excursion. Blackwall was, thankfully, the only one not talking every few seconds, but Iron Bull and Varric? No, they had to chatter on, talk about small gossips, and pester Alyona with questions. Varric had given up within the first hour of horseback, remembering how Alyona reacted the last time he pried. Bull was not so easily dissuaded, especially from somebody so protective of themselves.  
He trotted his steed up to her side and glanced over to her.

“So, Boss...”

She sighed. “What do you want, Bull?”

“Just wanted to know more about you.”

“Why, so you can tell your friends back in Par Vollen about it?”

“Nothing goes to them if you or Red don’t like it, remember? I like knowing about who I work for so I don’t tread on their toes.”

She paused. “I don’t see why you need to know about me. I’m a fire mage, I’m apparently the only one who can seal up the sky, and people think I’m Andraste’s messenger girl. Nothing else is important to you doing your job.”

There was a moment of silence, save the quiet talk between the others behind, and finally Alyona sighed.  
“Alright. Fine. Just a few though okay?”

Bull smiled. The hovering and silent pause worked like a charm. 

“Okay then. What’s a mage doing with a warrior’s build and fighting style?”

“Magic isn’t always going to be effective, so I’ve trained to fight physically. It also tends to take people by surprise.”

“Makes sense. Is your brother like that too?”

She looked at him and made a face. “Why does that matter? He’s not here.”

“Well I mean if you two grew up together, you’re bound to have trained similarly.”

“That’s irrelevant, and as I’ve already said, he’s not here.”

“He wasn’t at that Conclave, was he?”

Alyona took a sharp inhale and frowned deeply.    
“Thank the Maker, he wasn’t. We decided that I’d go on a coin flip... Probably for the better.”   
In her eyes flashed the burned remains of the explosion’s victims, greyed and thin, terrified expressions permanent on their dead faces. She shook her head quickly and looked back towards the road. “So, not dead, simply missing.”

“You could probably have Leliana send out a search.”

“Hm. I could... Maybe when we return to Haven I’ll look into it. For now, Redcliffe will do.”

“Hoping he’ll be there?”

She sighed again. “It’s a long shot. He never liked magic. Wouldn’t join the rebellion if he was being paid.”

“So he’s the type to go running back to the circle given the chance.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t think he’s run off to find Templars do you-”

Alyona swiftly reached over and yanked hard on one of his horns, eliciting a painful grunt from him. She turned her head and her lip curled.  
“Put a stopper in it before I do, The Iron Bull.”

He nodded very slightly. “Sorry, boss. Went a little too far there.”

She let him go and scowled, eyes returning to the path ahead.  
“Let the others know that I'm going ahead.” 

“Sure thing boss.”

 

She kicked the hart’s sides and galloped ahead, disappearing over a hill and leaving her traveling party in the dust.

 

Iron Bull slowed his horse to keep pace with the other two, rubbing his neck with a low grunt. Damn, that actually hurt! But now he knew a lot more about her. He heard Varric chuckle, and he and Blackwall fell in line with him.

“Damn, tiny, you really pissed her off!”

“You did that on purpose, didn't you?” Blackwall asked.

Bull smiled in response.  
“I  _did_ tell her I wanted to know how to not tread on her toes. And now I know.” 

“Yeah and we all do too now. Don't bring her brother up unless you want her mood to plummet.” Varric looked on towards the road for a moment with a smirk. 

“Dunno how you could possibly tell,” said Blackwall, “she's downright sour. Don't think I've ever seen her smile.”

Bull hummed thoughtfully. “She probably forgot. Tends to happen when too much shit gets thrown at you over the years.”

“Speaking from experience, Tiny?”

He just grunted positively in response.

“And you got that information out of her tuggin’ on one of your horns?” Blackwall asked, now a little more curious.

“Of course,” Bull said, “I can also say for certain that her brother loves Templars, that she puts family before herself, and that there are some really impressive arms hiding in those sleeves.”  
He rubbed his neck again for emphasis, and the others laughed. Varric sighed and loosed his grip on the reins.

“I kinda feel bad for her. Separated from family but too busy to reunite, having to deal with all this constant bullshit. I don't think she's gotten a break in years.”

“And that hole in the sky is bound to make anybody feel like crap.”

Almost in sync, the three men looked up to the Breach, suddenly losing a bit of their good humor at the sight of its ugly presence. Varric broke the awkward silence with a loud cough. 

“Well, come on kids. Al’s probably waiting for us in Redcliffe by now, we should get a move on.”

 

~———————~

 

By the time Alyona spotted the trio approaching, the sun had already passed its highest point, and started its afternoon dip. Alyona leaned against the tavern’s exterior patiently, watching her companions arrive and holster their mounts next to hers.

They gathered quietly outside and strode in together, hardly causing a stir within, save the curious glance here and there. All seemed normal. Music played, ale poured, and mages huddled in the corner, unassuming and shy. It was peaceful, but there was a stink in the air that nobody could quite place.  


The stink became more apparent when the mage rebellion’s leader did not recognize the Herald, or even recall coming to her for aid in the first place. There was something foul afoot, and Alyona tensed as the conversation was cut off by another voice.

  


A Magister strode into view.

 

~———————~

 

In no more than ten minutes, Alyona was leaving the tavern, a rage welling up in her gut. The sly smirk, the not-so-subtly snide comments - that Magister was the source of whatever foulness had descended on the town and the mages.  _ HER mages.  
_

Her fists clenched and unclenched, she wanted to leave, the magic in this place was unbearable now. Varric managed to stop her from storming away, however.  
“Not going to investigate the chantry?”

“Yeah that guy's kid sure did make a scene just to pass you a note.”

Alyona looked at the crumpled page in her unclenched hand, reading it again. She hummed thoughtfully, though still on edge.  
“I’m shocked Alexius didn’t see it... It could be a trap.”

“Well if it’s a trap,” Varric responded, “at the very least you can take your frustrations out through some violence.”

Somehow, the idea didn't sound all that poor, and she again crumpled the note and stuffed it into a pocket. She rolled her shoulders and gestured for the party to follow.

Pushing open the doors or the chantry, Alyona remained unfazed as the little rift crackled in her cursed hand’s presence. Amidst the chaos of demons, another Mage blasted away a shade, turning to catch the attention of the mostly shocked onlookers.

“Mind giving me a hand with these?”

 

~———————~

 

Iron Bull’s blade pierced through the final demon, lips curling into a snarl as the creature screeched one last time. He waited with a sadistic interest, watching as it crumpled and fell apart on the metal like muddy ash. He shook his sword to get some of the demon crap off of it, and stowed it as the new mage approached Alyona.  
He watched him with his good eye, frown growing as the two conversed.  
He was a Vint, and a wealthy one at that. The clothes were Tevinter, the accent was Tevinter, even the handsome features of his stupid face were Tevinter.  
“Careful with him,” Bull growled in warning to Al, “never trust the pretty ones.”

She looked back to him, nodded subtly, then faced the Vint again.  
“Bull makes a point. Two Tevinter mages in the same town, one of which has managed to snatch the rebels out from under my nose, how do I know to trust you? Who are you?”

“Dorian of House Pavus,” he said with a small smile, obviously restraining from doing a grand bow. “And I'm the only person that knows the magic that Alexius is using, and I want to put an end to his horribly poor life choices.”

Bull squinted a bit, continuing to monitor the man for any signs of doubt or suspicion. Unfortunately, there was none, and when Alyona relaxed, he did too. If she could relax, he was probably okay for now.

Alyona crossed her arms. “Very well. Come to Haven as soon as possible, we’ll need your knowledge to get those mages back. If the guards are wary, just tell them that Alyona Trevelyan sent for you.”

That was when Dorian bowed, albeit with less grandeur than what Bull expected, said his somewhat peppy goodbye, and left the room.

Alyona turned heel and left the chantry, shaking some stray magic from her Mark, small leftovers from the fight. 

 

“Damn,” Bull muttered as they neared the mounts, “I really fucking hate Vints.”  
He looked up to Alyona sharply. “I don't trust that Dorian guy, boss.”

“You don't have to,” she replied, “but for the meantime he is an ally. If that changes at all, however...”  
She mounted her red stag and met his gaze nonchalantly.  
“I'll personally let you know first.”

He smiled at that, and soon he and the party were off on the road again. He watched her for a few paces, then looked on towards the mountains.  
And hell, he was hoping Al would take him with her, if only so he could make some Vint heads roll.

  


Oh yeah, that'd make his damn day.

 

~———————~

 

Before Dorian even had time to breathe upon arrival, Alyona had swooped in and dragged him to the meeting with the advisors. She and the others squeezed all the information out of him. Alexius’ motivations, his magic, his allegiances to the Venatori and the “ _ Great One _ ”, and overall tactics on how to gain the upper hand on him.  
Dorian seemed all too happy to share, Alyona noted, but given the history between him and his old master, it wasn't all too shocking.

When the plans were set, espionage, tunnels, and all, they dispersed, with the mages following after each other to chat.

 

Alyona was interested in the sort of magic Dorian wielded, namely that Tevinter and Marcher magic were different in form and style.  
Plenty of other topics surfaced of course. The differing chantries, slavery in Tevinter, even a bit of Dorian’s past. Despite his origins, Alyona felt more at ease talking to him, though perhaps his status as a mage factored into that.

The topic of magic made a swift rebound, and all too soon was the focus of their conversation.  
Alyona wanted to learn the ways of fire magic that Tevinter knew, knowing it would give her yet another edge.

“My,” Dorian teased, “no wonder the Circles here in the south are so uncultured, you only learn about your own kind of magic!”

Alyona frowned, but pressed again. “I'd call them uncultured for another reason, myself. But that's aside the point. Your mages have found ways to use fire in a much more physical manner, right? Say for fists or a cloak, without burning the user?” 

“Well theoretically it’s possible, but nobody I personally know of has pulled it off. Are you proposing we try figuring it out?”

She shrugged, avoiding talking about it further.

 

They continued to talk and chat, with even Varric hopping in at one point to comment about some weird shit he'd seen mages in Kirkwall do. It lasted for a time, but eventually the three when their separate ways, retiring for the night in preparation for their assault in the morning.

 

~———————~

 

Just like at the tavern, the air around Redcliffe Castle stank of foul magic. Everything seemed wrong here, even more so as Alyona, Bull, and Varric stepped inside. Dorian had opted to take the tunnels with the inquisition agents, but Alyona knew he would be ready when the fight inevitably happened.

Guards stopped the party at the foot of the stairs, demanding Alyona go alone. She quickly put on new airs, standing up straight and dignified.  
“These men are my allies and trusted bodyguards. I don't go anywhere without at least one of them. It is of no disrespect to Magister Alexius. After five years of war and deceit and unprecedented mayhem, I find that it's best to side with caution.”

They hesitated, looked to each other and muttered in Tevine, then let the three pass.  


Once out of earshot, Bull couldn't help but smile. “Nice job, boss.”

“I meant every word of it,” she said, not losing her poise.

“You spoke like a noble, Al,” Varric commented. “But I suppose that's because you are one.”

“Sharp as always, Varric.”

They reached the throne room, and quietly, coolly, faced the magister who sat in a stolen throne.

 

~———————~

 

Things had gone very sour very quick. A damn shame. Alexius’ men had fallen in the shadows, and the man himself was cornered.

 

Nobody was expecting the blast of magic, nobody was expecting his swift counterattack that send Alyona into a haze. The all encompassing light that rendered her unconscious for a time. 

 

She awoke to a cell, dark and damp, but reeking of something new, something unpleasant.

 

Something felt missing here.

 

She shot up with a sharp breath, looking herself over. Clothes intact, no blood, no soreness, but there was still a lacking feeling that made her feel nervous.

“Are you awake?”

She shot up with a growl, thrusting her staff towards the voice. She stopped mere inches from Dorian’s neck, who held his hands up in a gesture of peace.

“It's just me.”

“Where are we?!” Alyona snapped

“Your guess is as good as mine. Alexius appears to have transported us to a cell. I imagine we're still the castle.”

Alyona calmed, he was clearly confused as well, though more intrigued with the situation than she.   
“And the others?”

“Not here I'm afraid. I only came to a few moments before you did.”

She hardly had time to respond, as two Tevinter guards rounded the corner and saw them in the old cell.

 

They went down quick, both torched and crumpled in a sad, pathetic heap. Alyona looked up to Dorian, who was continuing to analyze the situation.

 

“They didn't seem to recognize us, something here is amiss.” He looked up with an interested smile. "Care to figure out this mystery with me, Alyona?”

She stowed her weapon and looked to him. She didn't smile, but nodded her head once and rolled her shoulders.

“I'd be glad to.”

 

~———————~

 

The further they ventured, the worse they realized the situation had become. Guards attacked on sight, the magic of the place felt wrong.  Alyona had that lingering feeling that something was gone forever from this place. It made her more nervous, and fiercer in the little skirmishes.

Down the hall they noticed a faint glow, something eerie and red and foul. As they got closer, the anxiety got worse, and a fair hum rang in Alyona’s ears. They turned into the next hall, and found red lyrium. Attached to the walls, growing out of the floor, almost pulsing as new energy drew close. Alyona and Dorian stopped and stared. The sheer amount in this room alone would have been felt the moment they walked in the door, yet here it was, a disgusting, fiery red. This was not here when they had arrived.

 

Something was very,  _very_ wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *jazz hands* exposition


	5. The Tevinter Catastrophe pt.2

Everything about this place was wrong. Alyona’s discomfort continued to grow with every step, rampant red lyrium calling out to her in an off key tune. Could Dorian hear it too? Probably, though he was outwardly less affected by the eerie tune. 

If this was what the dungeons were like, she feared what the surface would show her.

Further exploration was met with quiet comments, an occasional fight, and the discovery of another prisoner addled with lyrium madness. All of them mages.

Why were they all mages?

 

The newest set of cells revealed something all the crueler. Varric was the first they came across, and to say he looked worse for wear was an understatement. He was sick from the red lyrium, and looked ready to drop dead. There was no way this could've happened so fast.

“Dorian... How long were we out?”

“I'm starting to wonder the same thing. It appears that we weren't transported to a certain place, but a certain time. Fascinating!” 

Varric’s attention was caught by Dorians remark, and he stood up out of his daze to approach. “Wait, you two are alive?”

“Varric, what happened? Where are we?” Alyona asked.

“A better question would be _when_ are we?” Dorian added.

“You've been gone a year. We all thought you two died... Everything went to shit.”

 

Alyona listened as he summarized the events of her missing year, allowing Varric to do all the talking and Dorian to do all the asking. The uneasy churn in her stomach grew more violent, but she kept her breath as steady as she could muster.

“Varric... What happened to the other mages?”

“Well seeing how batshit Alexius is, nothing good. Half of them turned into demons within the first two months.”

Her fists balled up tight, knuckles tightening from sheer strain.

“Stand back.”

The look on her face was enough for him to comply, and with a swift kick Alyona bashed the rusting cell door open. Varric stepped out and looked around.

“Thanks. Guess you'll want me to tag along then?”

“We have to get back to our time. I need you help.”

“Hey, no argument from me, Al. It's better than a slow death in that cell. You gonna get Bull too?”

Her brows raised. “He's still alive too? Where is he?”

“Pretty sure he's asleep at the other end of this hall. Put up one hell of a fight before they stuffed him in here with this lyrium.”

 

They walked over to the cell Varric had gestured to and looked inside. Indeed, there was Bull, but not asleep. He was standing, waiting.

“You're supposed to be dead,” he said. “There was a big scorch mark on the floor and everything.”

He too stood back as Alyona kicked open the cell door, freeing him from the reddening confines.

“Time magic. Bastard thought he could beat us by not actually killing us.” She met his eye with a dangerous look. “He's going to regret that choice. You in?”

Despite the weariness apparent in his face, Bull smiled, rolling his shoulders.

“I'd be glad to. It's boring as hell in here.”

Alyona patted his arm as he strode by to retrieve his weapon against the wall. She watched him, suddenly realizing he was covered in a number of scars that weren't there before.

“Bull?”

He turned as he grabbed his greatsword, meeting her look. There was a pause, and Alyona was sure he could see her barely contained concern. She shook her head and steeled herself, turning towards the exit.

“Never mind. Let's head out.”

 

“Sure thing, boss.”

 

~———————~

 

The dungeons were crawling with Tevinter guardsmen, each just as aggressive as the last, but equally a nuisance more than a threat.  
Coming across Enchanter Fiona - who was now growing the red lyrium from her body -  worsened the feeling in Alyona, as did coming across yet another familiar face.

Leliana looked the worst out of everybody. Cheeks hollow, eyes sunken, face pale and wrinkled from stress and abuse. Despite it all, her resolve was unbroken, and she was willing to help fix things. She was cold, however, cold and bitter and hostile to Dorian’s questions. Wanting nothing more than justice, she was quiet and deadly in the fights towards the surface.

They reached the docks under the castle, water slowly crashing along the rock foundations. It was quiet here, and eerie, and it lit up by the distant exit across the water. They stopped and salvaged supplies, treating small injuries before moving on.

Only hell awaited them as they reached the courtyard. And what waited for them out in the open was nothing short of horrifying.

 

~———————~

 

Alyona howled almost unnaturally, charging headfirst into a mob of demons. Her party had next to no time to react, and quickly chased after her to ensure she wasn't overwhelmed. She was bruised by the end of it, closing the rift and then charging towards the second one without a moment to breathe. When that too was gone, and the demons obliterated to dust, she continued to pace and whiten her bloody and bruised knuckles in fists, running fingers through her hair and looking up to the broken sky with a defiant look. The breach was gone, and in its place was the fade, merged with Thedas to make a demonic hell.

She paced and punched the stone wall with a loud thump, sinking to her knees in what seemed like defeat. She was shaking, gritting her teeth from pain, and her party watched silently, casting each other confused looks.

 

“Boss,” Bull started, “are you okay?”

She shook her head, fingered clenched into her hair as she visibly shook with rage... Or was it sorrow?

“He's gone... They're all gone.”

Dorian approached cautiously, but she didn't react, too exhausted from her outburst. He knelt down near her and reached his hands out.

“You took quite a beating back there, allow me.”

“Don't,” she hissed as he tried to heal her wounds. “I don't need help.”

She met his eyes. He could probably see how she'd been broken, but still he was determined to get her back on her feet. She relented quickly, and went back to her shaking as he began to magically heal her cuts and gashes.

“They're gone...” Hot, angry tears ran down her cheeks, and she almost punched the wall again.

“Who's gone, Alyona?” Dorian asked, moving his hands to heal a particularly nasty gash on her shoulder far too deep for an elfroot salve to fix.

“My family,” she almost snapped back, “my little brother, he couldn't have survived this. Not the way he is.”

“You're awfully close to your brother. How do you know he's gone?”

She sighed, calming down.

“I knew something was wrong when we awoke here. Some part of me was missing.” She looked up to him, “in the Free Marches, we believe that twins are a single soul split in two. That's why he's important to me, that part of me is missing, my brother Xenres, he’s gone and part of my twin soul with him. _That's_ why I'm so upset and why I know he's gone. Do you understand now?”

Everybody was silent, and Dorian healed her knuckles and pulled her to her feet with a solemn smile.

“Well. It sounds like you more than anybody has a reason to go back and prevent this, then.”

She nodded, standing up straight. “Right... We have to go back. I can't bear this nightmare any longer.”

“That makes two of us. Here.” He tossed her a lyrium potion. “Drink up, I doubt Alexius is going to go down from punches alone.”

She scowled at the drink, tempted to drop it. “I don't drink these anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don't,” she snapped. She looked down at the blue drink and scowled further, but gave up again. “But I suppose my hatred for Alexius right now outweighs that.”

“We must hurry,” Leliana interjected, “the longer we are out here, the sooner Alexius will realize we are coming for him.”

Alyona nodded and downed the drink, grimacing before throwing the empty bottle against the wall. She looked back to her companions and motioned to them.

 

“Let's go.”

 

Varric sighed, relieved. “Finally.”

 

~———————~

 

The main part of the castle felt like a labyrinth, twisting halls and rooms that led to a kitchen or spare storage room. As expected, the place was crawling with Alexius’ men, and the fighting proved all the more difficult the further Alyona pushed.

Even when they found the grand doors that led to the throne room where Alexius inevitably was, there was another step to take, another gathering mission, another damn rift, and more contact with red lyrium than Alyona felt comfortable with.

It was exhausting and silent save for shouts and orders in the midst of a fight. They were all feeling the weight of being so close to the end of this.

Finally, the tall doors gave way, and towards the throne room they stormed. There were no guards here, and in the grand room Alexius and his empty son waited, broken and ready.

Alyona stepped forward, companions in line behind her as she stood tall and threatening. The last confrontation was at hand.

 

~———————~

 

The throne room was silent, save the occasional muttering from Dorian. Around him and Alyona lay two bodies, one the battered remains of Alexius, the other the dead and empty shell that used to be his son. Alyona had taken out much of her frustration on Alexius’ corpse, kicking and stomping it repeatedly in the ribs and gut until parts of him were visibly broken and caving in. Now, however, she was assisting Dorian with the spell home. She listened and followed his orders, occasionally made a comment about a possible loophole or shortcut in the process, and always found herself glancing back at the doors to the outside with worry.

Leliana guarded the door with unprecedented vigilance, and Varric and Iron Bull were beyond the doors, fighting away the mysterious “ _Old God_ ” and his minions. She couldn't help but worry, and even looking at Leliana made her somewhat uneasy.

“Dorian.” Alyona asked.

“Yes?”

“About my brother, the whole twin thing...” She turned her head to him with a cold look. “Don't tell anybody about that. I prefer my personal life to be a secret, it's safer for me... And them.”

Dorian puzzled over for it for a moment, but ultimately ended up nodding his head. “You have my word.”

“Good. Because if I found out you started blabbing about my little meltdown, Tevinter would be getting you back in pieces.”

“Charming.” Dorian said dryly, returning to the enchanted amulet.

 

For a while longer they stood in silence, working and reworking the amulet to reverse its previous work.

“Is it done?” Alyona asked.

“Just a little more here and-” Dorian started, but was cut off by a deafening this against the doors. They both looked up in alarm and Leliana drew her bow. Another loud thud thundered as Dorian began activating the magic.  
The doors burst open and demons poured in, shocking Alyona to attention while Dorian finished the spell, the portal beginning to open. He grabbed onto Alyona's arm, but she was static from shock. A tall and disgusting demon had thrown a body into the room.

 

It was Iron Bull.

 

He was bloodied and almost pale, armor torn and weapon missing. He was clearly dead, but what made Alyona truly go pale was his face. Even from across the hall, she could see his eye still open in what almost looked like the remnants of shock; he'd died suddenly, painfully, and caught off guard.

She weakly tried to tug away to help him, even as Leliana was finally caught and killed before her, Dorian gave a last sharp tug and she snapped to attention, following him into the portal, away from the madness and terror.

 

~———————~

 

Iron Bull stared at the scorch mark on the floor in shock.

 

Alyona and Dorian... Did they just get obliterated? Just like that it felt like Alexius’ triumph was the rest of Thedas’ downfall.  
Alexius himself looked surprised at his own magic, and he almost smiled.  


Bull growled and stepped forward when the same magic from before burst before him, and from the portal jumped the two presumed dead mages. A wave of relief washed over him at the sight of them, and at the sight of Alexius’ utter shock and dismay gave him an almost smug satisfaction.  


He watched as she turned and punched Alexius square in the face, throwing him to the floor with the force of the blow. He muttered a curse under his breath and ran up to restrain her, seeing the blood in her eyes and fiery snarl on her lips. He barely got to her in time, grabbing both her arms and pulling her away as she struggled for a moment. Suddenly, he felt a weariness in her take over, and let go to give her space. Alexius sat in defeat, not even bothering to wipe the blood from his broken nose.

Bull stood close as she motioned for Leliana’s men to take away the culprit, allowing the son to follow unchained, knowing that he had nothing to do with his father’s plans.

They watched him leave, Bull once again looking rather smug to see him gone, no longer capable of harm. Then he looked down at his boss with a hint of worry. Just what had caused her to go so ballistic? She could be angry and prone to violence when pushed, but that?

 

That was something different.

 

There was a quiet in the room, the feel of a small victory as Fiona came to thank her. Alyona nodded in welcome and slouched, and Bull saw the signs of exhaustion before she could acknowledge it. He got up next to her to provide some support, looping her arm over his back and hefting her up with a hand. She scowled, though she didn't look to him. 

“I'm fine, Bull.”

“I'm sure you are, Boss, just gotta make it look like you just got out of a big damn fight.”  
He could almost hear her huff, perhaps in amusement, perhaps with thanks. Argue she might, he knew somebody who was close to a blackout.  
The little moment was short lived, however, as a nobleman stepped into view. Hell, Bull recognized him. King Alistair, married to Queen Anora and one of the guys who helped stop the last blight that happened. Thankfully, Bull had been in Orlais for the entirety of it, but word got around pretty damn quick.

 

He scolded the mages, and slightly scolded the inquisition, though he was clearly thankful that the mess he'd been riding to fix had worked itself out without him. He wanted to exile the mages from Ferelden, which was fair given they'd almost turned the entire world to shit because of now broken shackles.  
Alyona quickly and calmly offered to take them in, each and every one of them, as allies of the Inquisition. Bull grimaced a bit. Mages he didn't know tended to make him nervous, but he supposed he'd just have to deal with it. He wasn’t  in charge after all.

Alistair left satisfied, and Fiona once again thanked Alyona profusely before leaving to tell the others. Haven awaited the new allies, and hopefully with them around, the breach and demons would go away.

Bull snorted to himself as he walked with Alyona out of the castle and back to the horses. More mages meant no more demons. Now _that_ was hilariously ironic.

  
He got her to her stag, but almost got smacked on the head when he tried to help her up.

“I can do this much.” She hissed at him.

Knowing when not to argue, he shrugged an okay and backed up. “You gonna be okay, boss?”

“I'll be fine. I just need to sleep this whole nightmare off.”

She did not look at him as she spoke, and that bothered Bull a bit. But at the very least, she wasn't a scorch mark on the floor, and for now that was good enough. They rode out swiftly, Dorian and Varric chattering in the back while Bull followed in line with Alyona, making sure she didn't have another moment of weak legs.   
Still, she looked away, scowling, frowning, but not at him... What happened in the time when she was gone, he might never know, but he knew that something about him had upset her.

 

He slowed his horse to remain out of her line of sight.

 

Perhaps when they got back to Haven, he'd ask about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friend who proofed this left a comment of "Holy shit" at one point. If I could get her, somebody who doesn't even go here, to react like that, then I think I might be doing my job right. What do you guys think?


	6. Hot Blood

For days it seemed, Alyona did nothing but train her new mages for the closing of the breach. It was long and arduous, and she often took long rides out into the hinterlands to clear her head. A night or two away from the bustle and chaos would be good for her, get her mentally prepared for the big event. That's what she told the others, anyways. Truthfully, she just wanted to take a break and forget what had transpired a few weeks ago. Trips normally didn't last longer than a day. A swift run to get fresh air and to stretch her hart’s legs.

Today, however, she knew she'd be out for longer. Word had gotten to her of some lingering Templar activity deep in the Hinterlands. Alyona had pacified the mages and any Templars left behind from the post-Conclave madness. To her, these new Templars were just another flame to snuff before it spread. She was swift to take the opportunity to leave Haven.

“Iron Bull, you're coming with me for this.”  
She passed by his tent where she knew he’d be at this time of day, hardly passing a glance to the qunari as she tossed her saddle over the enclosure fence.

Bull laughed. “Free riding a bit too lonely for your liking, boss?”

“Nonsense,” she responded. “I have my hart. This isn't a free ride though, we've got some Templars to snuff out.” She started putting the saddle on her steed.  
“Small squadron is causing trouble to the mages still coming in from Redcliffe and the surrounding areas. It's not a large group according to the scouts, but they've killed two and injured eight, some of which were just locals. I won't let that stand.”  
Bull noticed that she was readying to get on that damn deer and move out, he nodded with a frown.

“Not a big fan of moving out before dinner, but those guys sound like they need a beating.”

He paused. “Shouldn't we eat first?”

“I packed food in the saddle already. We won't get to the area where they were spotted until tomorrow, and that's given we leave immediately.”

He sighed and consented.

“Alright alright. I'll get my horse.”

 

Bull managed to get a drink, let Krem know he was heading out, and get another quick drink before returning on horseback. He and Alyona rode out as the sun loomed overhead, looking ready to take its evening dip.

 

~———————~

 

They rode for hours through the mountains, backtracking occasionally when Alyona took a wrong turn. It wasn't that she was lost, she was just trying to learn an alternate route, so anybody expecting her would be sorely disappointed. Bull remained out of her periphery the entire time, still noting that she didn't seem keen on looking at him for too long. He'd tried to ask once about that, but she reflected the question with a classic ‘I don't want to talk about it’. He considered asking again, but figured he'd wait until they set up camp, when she was a little more relaxed, if she even knew the meaning of the word.  
He chuckled quietly to himself, but the trip itself remained quiet in an almost sorta kinda awkward way.

About an hour past sunset, Alyona stopped and moved off the trail to set up camp. Again there was the lingering, awkward avoiding and silence, even when she told him to help her with setting up the fire pit she didn't look straight at him. It was getting a bit irritating, actually. But again, he waited, he could get what he wanted out of her with a little patience.

She lit the fire with a bit of magic, a quick immolation of dried logs that melted away any ice clinging to the small clearing in which they sat. Bull was glad for the fire, if only for his aching leg. He'd already decided he would leave his brace on overnight in case of an ambush, but he couldn't help but feel a little grouchy being unable to expose his sore joints to the warm, inviting flames.

Alyona tossed him a hefty bag of dried, salted meat, and they ate in yet another prolonged silence. By the end of the simple meal, Bull figured he could pry now (truthfully, he was just at the end of his patience).

“So are you going to tell me why you've suddenly stopped looking at me when we talk? And I mean when in a vague sense, since that's not often either.”

She stopped mid sip, setting her water skin down and staring at it with something uneasy in her eyes.

“Because you know, I notice these things. You’ve been like this since Redcliffe, boss.”

Her unease grew. Bull’s eye gleamed a bit. He was on the right track. He scratched his chest and grinned.

“I mean I think I'm a pretty handsome guy. People love the scarred badass look. Don't think I haven’t seen you sneaking a look now and then before.” His smiled waned just a bit.   
“But yeah, suddenly I'm being treated like Ferelden’s ugliest Qunari. I'd say Thedas but I once ran into some exceptionally bad looking Tal Vashoth in Orlais. Turned out they'd done poorly at hunting a wyvern, real poorly. I actually let them go out of pity. The wyvern poison was gonna kill them soon enough anyways.”

He looked back to her and saw her eyes closed, contemplation mixed with the unease from before. He had no idea what she'd seen, and her unwillingness to even speak about it was only encouraging his curiosity.

 

~———————~

 

She sat in silence as he waited for her to figure out what to say. She owed him answers for her rudeness, she wasn't paying him to be ignored after all. And, well. He was certainly easier to talk to. He was patient, and she had a feeling he was extremely curious about the situation, and would continue being patient until she gave in.  
Gave in she did with a sigh, and did what she could to meet his eye, ignoring flashes of the exhausted qunari with fresh scars littering his body overtaking her vision.

“I... When Dorian and I went to that future Redcliffe, everything was wrong. You and Varric, you both looked ready to drop dead. Exhausted, beaten, and you... There were so many new scars, Bull. The fact that you and Varric were still at the castle meant you'd never left. You and him had probably fought, tried to escape, been tortured, too many things that your faces said when we found you two.”

She sighed and looked down again. “I'm supposed to lead you all. Protect the people who follow me through this damn mess. And there you were, a man close to death and close to breaking from a year of torture and red lyrium.”

“Wait, but you can exchange a hello and even a nod to Varric. What's his excuse?”

She gritted her teeth and flared up, looking at him defiantly.

“ _Varric_ wasn't that one I saw...” She stopped, she calmed, and the nearby fire calmed with her. “I saw things in that future, things I want so badly to unsee. I'm supposed to protect you all, and if I hadn't made it back to this time...”

She looked downcast all the sudden, and she curled her knees up to her chest.

“Drop the subject for now... Please.”

 

She rarely said a request so earnestly (or so politely for that matter), and she hoped Bull would get the hint. He shifted and nodded. Prodding the fire with a stick. She swore she saw an impressed twinkle in his eye as he did so. Bah, probably the fire.

 

“Alright.” He said casually. “I won't get into the super personal stuff like that unless you let me.”

“And I'd only let you if I trusted you.”

“ _Do_ you trust me?”

She looked up and they locked eyes. She squinted slightly through the flames at him, but his expression read nothing but honesty. Her brows furrowed, and he spoke again.

“Because I mean, I'm a qunari spy. I'm still _with_ the qunari that wanted me to get all nice and cozy with the people in charge, which appears to be you.”

“Well nobody else has stepped up. Somebody had to do it. And ‘getting cozy’ isn't exactly a top priority right now”

“But it's on the list huh?”

His eye twinkled with delight as she shot him a look. She flushed slightly and refrained from stuttering out anything. Instead she moved to her bedroll and started moving it away from the fire.

“I'm going to sleep.”

She could hear him chuckle a bit, and she had a feeling this’d come back to bite her in the ass later on. She moved her bedroll out of the light of the fire and sat down on it, slipping her shoes off for the night

“Aren’t you going to get cold being that far from the fire, boss?”

She looked back at him, his amusement replaced with curiosity.

“I don't ‘get cold’. Plus I'm less likely to be spotted by ambushers here.”

He jumped around the question of her paranoia and went right for the cold comment.

“You can't possibly keep the fire mage shit up while you're sleeping... Can you?”

She sighed and shrugged. It wasn't like he had any way to take advantage of this truth... That she knew of, anyways.

“Spell gone wrong.”

“Wrong how?”

She sighed again, growing irritated. “You’re getting the long version.”

“I have all night, boss.”

 

She met his gaze and then looked down... where to even begin? None of the memories from the circle made her happy anymore, it’d all been befouled and left to rot in the back of her mind. She cleared her fuzzier thoughts and sat up straight, moving back towards the fire where she could be seen better.

“I had to have been sixteen or seventeen at the time. Fresh out of my Harrowing and ready to study the advanced magicks that apprentices weren’t allowed to read about. My brother and I liked to compete a bit when it came to this sort of stuff. We were both aiming for First Enchanter, or Grand Enchanter if we could get that far. I had a theory about fire magic, that you could utilize it to prevent death in freezing temperatures, or just to stay warm in general without need of non magical fires.” She stared up wistfully at the stars, faded slightly from the orange glow of the camp.  
“I figured, a double sided ward specifically for fire, coupled with a complicated body warming spell and some other factors, I could achieve that. And-”

Bull raised a hand to stop her for a moment.

“Repeat that and say it to me like I’m a child, please.”

She rolled her eyes a bit.

“I figured out that combining two different magicks, one being fire, then I’d make life a hell of a lot easier for people who get cold easily. Better?”

“Much. Keep going.”

“Well... anyways, I didn’t have anybody who’d volunteer for testing, and animals can’t tell you about how they’re feeling, so I did it to myself, by myself. Worked like a charm, and I was happy to show off the achievement by going down to where the ice mages practiced. Didn’t feel a thing in the ice box, so I sat there for a while as Xenres scolded me for being rash. Didn’t care, I wasn’t cold and I was literally sitting on ice.”

She paused and her expression soured slightly. “Catch is I can’t turn it off. I got tired of it after a while and tried to deactivate the magic before leaving the room, since I knew it was going to drain my energy constantly if I left it as is... But no matter what counterspell I tried, even the one I’d devised for it in the first place, it wasn’t working.”

“So you’re stuck forever hot, basically?”

She raised a brow at him, and he blinked at her almost innocently... or was that a wink? She scowled.

“Only until I’m all out of magic and energy, or unless I go someplace very hot like a desert. If I were to get seriously worn out in a fight, I’d feel the cold out here right now. I need to eat and sleep more to compensate, and despite the benefits, the drawbacks are inconvenient and annoying.”

“So right now you can't even feel how cold it is here?”

“Nope. Can you?”

He shrugged, “Dunno. I’m a big guy-”

“That’s an understatement.”

His eye gleamed in amusement. Why, that almost sounded like a joke! Even Alyona wasn’t sure if it was, she’d mostly blurted it out.

“Well, anyways,” he continued, “Yeah I can feel cold if it gets really bad, but I give off heat like crazy apparently. No magic necessary.”

She shrugged, “Guess I never noticed.”

She yawned, feeling the call of sleep in her heavy eyelids. “I suppose you have some information to digest now. I’m going to sleep for real this time."

“Sure thing boss. I’ll put out the fire in a bit.”

She hummed and moved to her bedroll, crawling in without a second thought. Sleep came easily, too easily, and she wandered vaguely through the fade-formed memories of home that night.

 

~———————~

 

Alyona awoke first, it seemed. Certainly a rare something for her. Her eyes fluttered open slowly and she saw her foggy breath, even if she couldn't feel the cold that came with it. She sat up groggily and rubbed her eyes with a displeased grunt, looking around the makeshift two-man camp. Bull was across the way, asleep against a tree. She stood up and walked to him to wake him, crouching down to shake his arm.  
She placed her hand on his shoulder, and lingered there...

He really _was_ giving off heat like crazy. Any normal man would be somewhat chilly to the touch but not Bull, not the qunari. Her thumb brushed absently along a jagged scar and she lingered for a while longer before giving him a firm shake. He opened his eye slowly and turned his head to her, expression shockingly plain.

“I'd suggest waking me up on my good side, boss. I almost put a knife into your gut.”

She furrowed her brows and leaned forward, freezing at the feeling of something sharp pressing against her stomach. She slowly leaned back and sat down on her heels, looking down at where his hand still clutched a wicked knife. She swallowed a small lump, but looked back to him. She'd have done the same in his situation, though probably with less subtlety.  
“Sorry. I'll try to remember to avoid your blind side.”

He grunts, they both stand, and he brushes himself off, storing his blade in some hidden sheath.  
“It's fine, boss. Most people don't remember it for a few mornings. Hell, I punched Krem in the face the first time he did it.”

“You punched him?!”

“I was much less subtle then. But yeah I punched him and broke his nose, that's why it looks like there's a bit of a bump up near the bridge.”

“Maker’s ass, Bull. That was you?”

He laughed. “Nah it's fine, he laughed it off and said ‘now we’re even for the eye, chief’.”

The corner of her mouth twitched and she huffed. There was a quiet moment before she spoke again. “You and your party are just full of oddities. Come on, let's get the steeds loaded up.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Nah you go on ahead, there isn’t much to pack anyways. I’ll catch up.”

She paused. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” he smiled, “you always go out to be by yourself, only reason you brought me is because there’s gonna be a fight.”

She lingered for a moment, watching him. Was he going to slip something into her stuff? Poison the food? She shook the thoughts from her head. She was paying him well, and a move like that would be a tactical disaster. No, he was honest. She stood up straight and mounted her Hart. She made towards the road, slowing beside him to nod.

“Thank you. Don’t linger too long, okay?”

 

“I won’t, boss.”

 

The corner of her mouth twitched again, then she kicked the hart’s sides, galloping away and down the path.

 

~———————~

 

The hilly path had started to decline by the time Alyona slowed down to a walk, looking about as her steed strutted forward. The cool air was good for her, even if she couldn’t sense it too well, and the overcast sky practically spelled out ‘snow’. Her mind finally started to clear. Nobody around to pester her, no questions, no lessons to teach, no scars or memories of dead faces.

She sighed, closing her eyes and letting the hart continue at its own pace. Attempting to empty her thoughts never went well, but right now she wanted to think of anything, _anything_ but the Inquisition. Home, her brother out there looking for her, had her parents back home gotten the messages from Josephine yet? Father would be having a fit, still stuck as a Templar and unable to act. Her brothers and eldest sister must be worried too, _hell_ , Alyona was worried about her brothers more than anything, not just for Xenres, but the elder boys too. They were here in the south last she knew, weren’t they? They had to have been, people came en masse to Ferelden and Orlais after the flame finally sparked in Kirkwall.

 

Maker, it was all a mess. It’s _still_ all a mess.

 

A snowflake hit Alyona’s nose and her eyes opened. There was a light sprinkle of them in the air, with more likely to come... There was no wind though, perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad. She hummed, still somewhat lost in thoughts of home when she suddenly heard the distant stretch of a bowstring.

 

Shit.

 

She scrambled to grab the reins and pull back, but her stubborn beast snorted and reared up instead.

 

An arrow lodged deep into its neck, and it fell with a shrill cry, taking Alyona down with it. She yelped and moved as best she could, but the weight of the giant deer came upon her and her vision went fuzzy. In a daze, she tried reaching for her staff but.... No. She’d left it at camp. The final death throe of her hart knocked the wind out of her, and her head snapped back into the dirt as vague figures in armor came into view. They looked each other as she tried to regain her focus, movement, something! Her hearing was still perfect though, and she heard everything they said.

 

“Must have come from Haven sir, what do we do?”

 

“Search her for lyrium, then do what you deem fit.”

  
  
Alyona’s vision went red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP DLC Hart, you will be missed.


	7. Distant Memories Silence New Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flamey-rage activation, a few shared memories, and a hint towards more than a few things

Bull had a three strike system. First strike is something, but likely not dangerous, the second meant keep a hand on the hilt of his weapon, and the third meant danger is inevitable, and to be ready. The quiet in the air was Bull’s first strike as he followed down the path Alyona had earlier taken. No birds, no squirrels sticking their heads out to watch him from the branches. The only noise came from his horse, who snorted and clopped along at its own steady pace. Bull looked around cautiously, looking for any signs of a fight. All he saw were the hoof prints of Alyona’s hart, sometimes in long strides of a trot, other times in the average walk. The snow was light enough that there was still a trail, though the occasional distance marker made for a better guide. His breath came out in little puffs of fog, and his ankle ached something fierce.

He grumbled to himself; The sooner away from this cold, the better.

Strike two was the sight of human footprints appearing on the path, much fresher than the hoofprints and in fair number. Bull frowned and kicked his horse’s sides, encouraging it into a gallop. The steed whinnied and sped up, hooves beating into the snow and kicking up a trail behind him. Bull kept his eyes forward, occasionally looking down to see if there were any changes in the footprints. To his growing apprehension, the footprints thinned out, but one or two continued on, and the rest went towards higher ground. This had ambush written all over it. Alyona was constantly cautious at the best of times, Bull thought, there’s no way she could have been taken off guard. His horse whinnied and snorted, coming to a quick halt that, sent Bull lurching forward a bit. He cursed and was about to berate the stupid thing when he finally saw what caused the sudden stop.

Alyona’s hart lay dead in a pool of its own blood, an arrow sticking out of its neck. The arrow was of standard templar make, but he didn’t need to know that to know that they were who ambushed the boss. Three dead, singed, bloody remains still cased in chantry armor were strewn about the pathway, blood soaking into the still falling snow. Steam and smoke still rose from them faintly, this was almost recent.

 

Strike three.

 

Bull cursed and followed the trail of blood and melted snow, hoping that Alyona hadn’t decided to go and get herself possessed. The closer he got to the fight, the louder the sounds of metal clangs and crackling bursts of flames became. The shouts started to ring out even further, and that was when he heard a blood chilling howl.  
It was human, it was loud, and it was definitely not the screech of one of the templars. Bull had never heard such rage bellow out from Alyona’s lungs. He surged forward even faster, despite the protests of his bad ankle. Old wounds be damned, if he wasn’t worried before, he sure as hell was now. He shoved his way through a clearing, greataxe in hand, and nearly halted in his tracks at what he saw.

There were ten templars, and about five more dead and reduced nearly to ashes around him, not to mention the one or two that he’d seen along the way. They were shouting at each other and surrounding a large flame... No, not a flame. Bull squinted and finally saw the shape of his boss in between the silhouettes of the soldiers. She was slightly hunched, teeth bared and fists balled so tightly that he knew it’d leave marks in her palms. Her eyes were frantic and wild like a cornered beast, and her entire back seemed to be wreathed in flames. She wasn’t possessed, but she was damn close to it it seemed.

Bull’s breath hitched as a templar charged at her and she barrelled into him without thought of protecting herself, grabbing his sword arm and breaking it in a swift motion before reaching to try to tear his helmet away. The chaos of the fight started anew, and soon Bull found himself dragged into it, fighting a few that’d noticed him and taken him for an easier target. A few templars at once wasn’t too bad, but he kept trying to draw them away from Alyona, for their own sake more than hers. Whatever was going on right now, she wasn’t hesitating to dislocate joints, break bones, and cook them alive in their armor. Whatever these templars had done, it’d triggered something feral and angry from deep inside her, and like an injured Wyvern she spat and fought with the sort of ferocity he’d known only to Seheron’s Tal-Vashoth and, he remembered bitterly, to himself.

Bull had to put in a bit of effort to wrench his axe out of the last man’s clavicle, splattering blood everywhere as the weapon finally broke free from the bone it’d been embedded in. He looked up quickly expecting more combatants, but there was only one man left, and Alyona had his face in her hand. He could see the smoke rising, hear the pained screams of whoever that last bastard had been, and the smell of burning flesh. That was a smell Bull didn’t think he’d ever come to enjoy, he thought. He held his weapon at the ready and stepped forward just in case, trying not to flinch as Alyona vaulted the near-dead body away with a loud growl. Her teeth still bared and eyes trained in its direction.

Suddenly, her head snapped and all her focus went to Bull, the only man still standing besides her. She growled at him, still angry and ready to strike and _scared_. Bull hadn’t seen the fear before, but he saw it now in her defensive stance, her locked focus on him, even somewhere inside those fiery eyes. Bull put everything together and put his hand up in a peaceful gesture.

“Easy boss, I’m not a templar.”

He crouched to set down his bloody greataxe, then stood again, both hands up at shoulder level. “Not gonna attack you, see? They’re all dead now.”

She could see something in her stir back into consciousness, and the flames started to shrink around her, posture beginning to straighten. Bull took a step forward, and she hissed what sounded like a “don’t” at him, taking a step back. He stopped, trying to placate her.

“S’okay. I got it. Still freaking out.”

He’d been there before, he’d known one or two people who’d been there before, he knew the drill.

“Come on boss, you’re safe now. It’s me, The Iron Bull, you’re fine, mission’s over.”

For a moment, it seemed like everything would start up again, and Bull would be faced to fight, but he saw recognition flash across her face, and she opened her mouth to speak.

 

“Bull?”

 

The flames died down almost immediately, and any hint of aggression dwindled. For a moment she seemed stable but he saw her knees knees start to shake and wobble. Bull hardly got out a sigh of relief before he was rushing forward to catch her as she collapsed.

Out the corner of his eye he swore he saw the brim of a wide hat retreating away.

He had to crouch down to catch her initially, her body had all but gone limp and she was breathing heavily, arms hanging down like dead weights. He hefted her up so that she could lean against him properly.  
“There you go boss.”

“My head feels like shit.”

Bull chuckled, though he was still thoroughly spooked by what he’d witnessed mere moments ago. “Yeah well I’d probably feel shitty too if I’d decided to set myself on fire.”  
She grumbled something incoherent, and he started to guide her back down the path he’d come from. She was exhausted, he could see the starts of bruises on the parts of her skin he _could_ see, and her back still felt at least ten degrees hotter than the rest of her. About halfway down towards his horse she stumbled, and he was quick again to keep her upright before she faceplanted into the snow like a child.

“Damn,” she muttered tiredly, “when the fuck did it get cold?”

Oh, hell. What was that Alyona had mentioned about her weird fire shit? She didn’t get cold unless she was really _really_ drained, right? That did it for him, and he scooped her up without a second thought, holding her against his chest as she grumbled a weak protest.

“Bull-”

“You are literally two steps from passing out, boss, and it’s only until we get to the horse.” He could tell she wanted to argue, but didn’t have the energy to do it. All she did was grunt and let her body relax a bit. Good, that’s progress at least. He got her to his horse just fine, all packed up and waiting patiently. He sat her on the saddle and she hunched over, putting her hands on the horse’s neck, who snorted in response. She didn’t say anything at first, but took notice of her dead steed, still warm on the side of the road. Bull followed her gaze towards the poor thing and shrugged.   
“I’ll make sure Leliana gets some scouts out here to salvage and move the body.”  
He mounted the horse, with his still exhausted boss slouched in front of him. He grabbed the reins and the beast circled as Alyona’s eyes still tiredly looked on at the hart.

“Never had a chance to name him,” she murmured, “I was stuck between ‘Cinnamon’ or ‘Cedar’.”

Bull looked down at her as he kicked the horse into heading back towards Haven. He’d never heard her speak with such... sorrow? Affection maybe? Her voice was softer than he’d ever heard, and if _that_ wasn’t a dead giveaway to how out of it she was. “Cinnamon would have worked. I like cinnamon, Orlesians love putting it on these little pastries filled with sliced apples.”

“Chaussons aux Pommes,” she responded to nobody in particular, “my mother made them all the time when I was a kid.”

“You mean before the circle?”

“Well...” she paused, “yeah. She still makes them I’m sure, but it’s got to be lonely with only your eldest daughter and husband around to enjoy them.”

“How many siblings _do_ you have, boss?” He asked. Now was a good time to pry, and he wanted to make sure she stayed awake a little longer, just in case.

“Four, all of them older except Xenres. You’d probably like my older brothers, couple of complete thick-skulls like you.”

Bull laughed, if she wasn’t so tired and out of it, he’d swear she was making a joke with him.  
“As long as they have red hair like you, I’m fine!”

“ _Bull_ ,” she began to scold, and he eased up immediately.

“Just teasing, boss.” His smile was almost unbreakable, and he saw the tips of her ears turn a shade pinker for a moment. Man, it was so hard not to take advantage of this and tease further! But no, he knew better, she was tired and would probably yank on a horn later if he went too far. She sighed tiredly and leaned back, trying to absorb his body heat like some sort of sponge. She was a little more coherent now, that was a good sign. She continued looking forward, they both did, and his ears perked when she spoke again.

“Bull.”

“Yeah boss?”

“What happened today. What you saw. That stays between us, understand?”

“Understood, boss. What _was_ that shit? I thought for sure you’d been possessed.”  
She shrugged against him, head rolling back a bit.

“Dunno, it started a while back after... things... when I get, uh, scared or panicked, I just see red and, uh, outlines of people. I’m not really all there when I’m like that. I don’t do it often, I don’t get triggered that easily, but those Templars-” her body tensed, her back grew warm, and Bull tensed too, expecting the worst. The worst didn’t come, instead she cooled off and slumped against him again.

“Are you scared of templars?” Bull asked, without a hint of malice in his tone.

“Some, I guess, it depends.” She started, then sighed. “More than some, yeah.”

“Well, you’re not the only person I know who goes batshit when their buttons get pushed.” He didn’t care to elaborate on that, it was too messy, too much of shit that he didn’t want to remember, even if every moment spent down in the south was just another reminder of what had happened in Seheron. They came to the top of the ridge at last, and down below in the distance he could see Haven. Another hour or so until they would be back, he figured, maybe more. Man, after all of this, he was going to need a drink... or twenty.

“Bull,” the mage started again, and he came back to the present to look down at her.

“Yeah boss?”

“Are you scared of me now?”

Oh. Fuck. Yeah uh, how was he supposed to answer that? She’d torn and burned away at fully armed men in full armor _with her bare hands._ It wasn’t even that fact that bothered him, hell, it was was hot as hell, but the rest? She’d set herself on fire, she had screamed and howled like an animal, and at one point it seemed like she would attack him too. She could have been just a demon wearing her like a meat suit for all he knew, and he absolutely hated demons.  
“Uh, I mean. What you did back there... Without the magic shit and look of ‘I’m two seconds from letting a demon possess me’, I would’ve almost found it attractive, like seriously awesome. But uh, yeah, magic bullshit and potential for demons? That’s going to give me nightmares for a few nights I think.”  He paused and thought about it for a moment.  
“But I understand, boss. I’ve seen it before, minus the magic, so yeah that was absolutely terrifying to somebody like me who really hates demons, but if you don’t do it a lot, I’m fine.”  
There was a silence for a moment, as if they were both processing the situation, before Alyona let out another tired sigh.

“It’s rare, don’t worry about it. Sorry you got spooked, I hate getting like that... I don’t like how I feel afterwards.”

 _You have no idea,_ Bull thought.

“But, for what it’s worth, thank you for not losing your head about it. It’s... nice to have somebody around who can relate, or understand at least.” She yawned tiredly, any clarity of thought leaving as the last of the adrenaline wore off. “I think I’m starting to,” she yawned again, “enjoy the company.”

“Oh?” Bull started to tease, but it was too late. She was out cold, and he just hummed quietly. He doubted she’d wake up and remember that she’d admitted that, he’d just have to play dumb. Oh but he’d remember it, he remembered plenty of these little things after all, and he relaxed into the saddle and let her put all her weight onto him. Aside from Dalish, he wasn’t all too fond of hanging around mages. (‘I am not a mage!’) Dalish’s words echoed and he laughed, the mages he _did_ like were always hiding weird stuff. Not bad, he thought, kind of spooky, but not bad.

 

~———————~

 

By the time they reached Haven’s gates, the sun was hanging low in the sky, and Alyona was still fast asleep. Some of Leliana’s scouts and Cullen’s soldiers rushed to help, and Bull gave them an abridged story just good enough to satisfy them. A small team was dispatched to salvage the templar camp and take care of Cinnamon’s body, and some soldiers carried Alyona off to her room, a healer quick on their heels.

Late into the next day, she emerged looking back to normal, if not a little more grouchy than usual. She pulled Bull aside to make sure he hadn’t spilled about her little outburst, and he reassured her that his lips were sealed. She sighed in relief, and immediately put her game face back on, putting in more effort with training the mages as Bull watched from his tent with a hint of a smile. He didn’t let on that he had a bit of a hangover, that he’d spent a lot of the night drinking as a celebration of sorts to her not getting possessed by a demon, or that he’d had trouble sleeping again. Nah, that wasn’t for her to be worried about, she was focused on Breach now, she had more important things to worry about.

She’d planned to move out in a week’s time, she didn’t need to fuss about how terrified the prospect of her being possessed made Bull.

  
It was probably going to be another few nights of Bull seeing that angry, feral, and scared expression wreathed in flames before he could rest easy again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you thought I was gonna go with Cinnamon Buns, didn't you?


End file.
